


Precise Maneuvers

by Afoolforatook



Series: An Anthology of Affection [30]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Clover injury, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, NO DEATH, Near Death Experience, Qrow injury, Vacuo arc, not ch 12 related, what are RWBY weapons even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afoolforatook/pseuds/Afoolforatook
Summary: Qrow and Clover are a wonderful team.They are both incredibly skilled huntsman.But even they could get in over their heads.At least they have each other.---------------------Part 30Saw a post of kissing prompts. Liked a bunch of them. Decided to give myself a daily challenge to get myself actually publishing things while I work on bigger projects.One prompt a day. Under 1500 words (or close to it).
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: An Anthology of Affection [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805008
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	Precise Maneuvers

**Author's Note:**

> Making this one M just to be safe, since I've never written this level of injury before (and I'm rushing to finish this)
> 
> They both survive and it's nothing to do with or particularly similar to Ch 12, but it is an intense close call.

Prompt 30 - Weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot.

Precise Maneuvers 

\-------------------------

They’d gone out scouting, checking the area surrounding the camp, and finalizing their plan forward for the day. The kids had stayed back, finishing breaking down camp. 

Everything was going fine. The area was clear and the path they’d mapped out looked good, with no unforeseen complications. They’d decided to head on back and try to get ready to head out. 

Everything was going fine. 

Until Qrow perked up; a twinge of caution dragging down his spine. 

“Heads up, Cloves. Something’s com-” He trailed off as they both heard it, saw it.

From a nearby rocky, almost hive-like, outcropping rose a deep, thrumming sound. Buzzing. 

Both men froze as a swarm of lancers poured from the hive. Yeah. Definitely a hive. Dozens. Possibly the largest swarm either of them had ever encountered. 

Qrow saw Clover flick his pin and start to reach for Kingfisher on his hip. The older huntsman stuck his hand out, shaking his head and holding a finger to his lips. 

Qrow pinched the back of Clover’s vest and slowly pulled his partner to him, keeping his eyes locked on the gathering cloud of grimm. He whispered as Clover pressed up against his shoulder. 

“That’s way too many for just the two of us, shamrock. And no easy cover…” He turned his head, nodding back towards a small group of rocks by a small ravine. “But they haven’t spotted us yet. Let’s backtrack just a bit, hide and see if they’ll just pass. And if not, at least that way we’ll have some time to plan, and maybe even some helpful topography.” 

Clover flicked his eyes back towards the crest and nodded. “Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” 

Slowly they made their way towards the rocks, keeping low and quiet, hoping that the still dim morning light would be enough to hide them. 

They were about 200 feet from their goal, and had just spotted a small cave towards the crest of the ravine that they could hide in, when the earth groaned beneath them. In a violent spray of dirt and sand, a centinel burst from the ground between them and their only possible cover.

Clover was already in motion, drawing Kingfisher and readying it to try and snare the head so that Qrow could quickly take it out. But Qrow hesitated, looking behind them instead. 

The centinel’s emergence had gotten the swarm's attention and they were wasting no time heading their way. 

He grabbed Clover’s wrist quickly, his voice dark and clear. “Change of plan. You take care of it. I’ll lead them away.” He nodded. 

Vacuo centinels tended to be larger than in Solitas but luckily, they were also more solitary. 

“Qrow, no you’re not-” Clover started but Qrow was already moving, his hand grazing over Clover’s pin as he turned away. 

“Ten minutes. I will meet you at the cave in ten minutes! I’ll lose them in the ravine!” He called, and then he was in the air. 

Clover wanted to watch him, to follow him, but the centinel had fully emerged and was not giving him any more time. 

Clover spun, casting Kingfisher’s line quickly, and starting to move, tangling the row of legs with the deceptively loose thin wire. 

\---------------------

Qrow had hovered after he transformed, waiting for the swarm to draw a bit closer and notice him. 

Usually, a small animal wouldn’t draw grimm’s attention like that. But he wasn’t just some small animal.

He was human. A human with a strong aura, an aura threaded with ancient magic. He was a prize. 

The lead lancer turned his way, pausing momentarily before signaling the entire swarm to follow. 

Even in bird form, Qrow felt the surge of relief as he noted that there was no queen among them. 

And then he was off. He took the long way; not wanting to draw them close to the rocks before Clover had time to reach the cave. Once he’d given the area a wide enough berth, he dove into the ravine, the swarm following. 

It was just what he’d been counting on. The ravine was busy, outcroppings, and pillars sprouting from the ground all over the place. Weaving through the structures would force the swarm to break up, and give him a chance to take them out one wave at a time.

But he was going to have to be precise. 

He couldn’t wield harbinger in avian form. And to go between forms he had to either clip the weapon back to his belt before transforming or let it go, timing it right so that he could catch it again, in midair. 

It was tricky. But he could do it. Qrow Branwen's name wasn't well known for nothing. 

\--------------

Clover made quick work of the lone grimm; wrapping it up sufficiently before flicking his bail halfway, stopping the release, twisting the drag control, and then clicking the retractor. The final click activated the gravity dust chamber in the reel, right as the line went rigid. Clover spun the handle once and snapped the bail shut, releasing the retractor at the same time. 

The line straightened instantly, whipping into alignment and slicing clean through the grimm before zipping back to the spool. He flicked the rod down gently as the hook sped closer, latching it into place. 

And then he took off towards the cave. 

Qrow was already out of sight, but he could see the last of the swarm speeding into the ravine past the rocks. He had a good idea what Qrow had in mind. It could work. But it was risky. 

He sped past the cave, stopping at the edge of the ravine and looking down, trying to pick out the small black shape. Or the billowing red cape. 

Finally, he saw him. 

The swarm was already considerably smaller and as Clover watched, his heart in his throat, he saw his partner’s strategy play out. 

The spaces between rocky outcroppings only allowed for a few grimm to gather, and they were forced closer together than they would normally fly. 

The small black bird would lead them into a new clearing and hover, letting about a half dozen lancers surround him. And then, right as they were about to charge, the bird shot straight up, twisting in midair. 

Halfway through the spin, the bird was gone, and Qrow was arcing through the air above the group of lancers. Harbinger was drawn almost impossibly fast, morphing out into full war scythe mode as Qrow used his momentum to twist once more. The motion let him swing his weapon in a smooth, lightning-fast curve as he fell; the blade spinning like a top, Qrow the center balance, and slicing through the circling lancers. And then, as the dust fell from the bodies, so did Qrow, moving to collapse Harbinger and hook it back to his belt before transforming - much closer to the ground than Clover was happy about - and shooting off once more, ready to repeat the maneuver. 

Clover was frozen for a moment, calculating, trying to figure out the best move forward. Qrow had obviously pulled the move off several times, as there were now just around a dozen lancers left. But Clover knew he’d have to be close to worn out by now, transforming like that over and over and - by the look of a few recently toppled pillars - using his semblance to take out a group here and there. 

Clover wanted to jump it and help Qrow finish the last groups off. But the obstacles that made his strategy possible also made helping him risky.

If Qrow did go down, Clover would be out of view and likely unaware, not to mention pinned in on both sides. And Qrow’s weapon, his fighting style, was much better equipped for multiple flying targets than Clover's.

He wanted to help so badly. But doing so could end up being more dangerous than letting the other man continue with his strategy. 

So he watched. 

Qrow pulled the plan off again, and now was left with just five lancers. If he timed it right he could get them all in one last move. 

Clover watched as Qrow lined them up.

As he drew them in.

As he lifted and spun.

As he transformed and masterfully wielded Harbinger.

As he sliced through all five lancers and let himself fall again, going to retract Harbinger and return it to his belt before landing. 

But, before Qrow could retract the blade, Clover saw two lancers dart out from a crevice lower in the ravine; they must have split off from the main group into a different section of the canyon.

But Qrow was facing away from them, and exhausted, his guard down as he thought the danger was gone. 

“Qrow! BEHIND YOU!” Clover screamed, hand already on Kingfisher’s handle. 

The warning was enough to alert him in time, just managing to twist in the air as the pair grew closer.

And then one shot a stinger, which thus far, Qrow had been able to easily evade. But this time, when he moved to click Harbinger to his belt he was off center and just barely missed.

By the time he realized the weapon hadn’t attached properly he was already transforming, the blade tumbling through the air. But the bird could avoid the stinger better. He could get Harbinger later.

However, the jarring twist, the exhaustion, and his surprise made him just slow enough to not skirt around the second stinger. 

Clover watched in horror as a flurry of feathers fell from the small form, red aura shimmering dangerously around it as a wing hung limply at its side as it started to plummet. 

He was casting Kingfisher instantly, swinging out into the canyon as it hooked around a pointed ledge. As he swung he had no way to operate his weapon offensively. He paid more attention to catching Qrow than attacking the lancers. 

But as he drew closer to Qrow, one last lancer appeared; bigger, faster than the other two.

It shot forward and in an instant, with a sickening crack, caught the plummeting form just as it transformed - a bleeding man replacing the wounded bird - in its strong pincers. 

Clover’s stomach dropped as he swung past where he’d expected his partner to be in time to catch him. 

“QROW!” The scream ripped from Clover’s throat as he landed, and watched the shards of a red aura fall from the grimm. 

Everything slowed, as he watched those shimmering facets fall, watched Qrow’s unconscious form hang in the lancer’s grip. 

But he didn’t have time for that wave of unspeakable fear. There was still a chance. He had to move. 

His eyes darted over as he caught glimpse of Harbinger lying about ten feet from him. And he leaped into action. 

As he retracted Kingfisher, he also skidded over and grabbed the hilt of Harbinger. He flicked the gear smoothly, snapping the blade down and exposing the rifle, then firing at the two original grimm.

He saw one go down, but he had to get Qrow down safely before finishing the other. He dropped Harbinger beside him and focused as he flipped Kingfisher in his grip and aimed.

He had to be precise. There was no room for error. If he missed and hit Qrow it was over. 

Clover drew a long nervous breath and gripped his pin tight for an extended moment before lifting the reversed reel and launching the harpoon. He held his breath as the hook sailed through the air, and gladly welcomed the jarring impact as it found its mark in the middle of the lancer’s abdomen. 

Okay. He had to be precise here as well. He couldn’t just pull it straight down, he couldn't use his last gravity dust cartridge to slam it into the ground. It would crush Qrow. He had to spin it himself. He wasn’t sure it would work, and he was sure that if it did it wouldn’t be pleasant. But it was his only option. 

He looked at the area around him, measuring, and then barely spun the handle, pulling the grimm in a couple of feet.

Then, like before with the centinel, he half-cocked the bail, securing the line. He readjusted the drag and then pressed down the retractor gently, careful not to depress the button enough to activate the dust chamber.

It wasn’t how Kingfisher was built to operate but it was what he needed right then.

His hand was steady. Without moving his right hand, he reached out his left, twisting the line around his forearm and holding it tight in his hand. He steeled himself, running over the steps in his head.

He would have to move the instant the line straightened. He knew the tension in the line would almost certainly break his arm, which meant he would have to put his weight behind the swing _before_ that pain hit him. Within seconds.

If he didn’t he likely wouldn’t have the strength to leverage the weight like he needed.

He closed his eyes for a split second and took a slow breath, before cautiously raising his finger, and flipping the bail, releasing the retractor at the exact same moment, without spinning the handle. 

The line clicked into place, snapping from flexible wire to taught pole. But no dust pulled it in. No handle spun to manually retract it. Clover threw all his weight into the swing.

The line was arching before the scream came, his momentum carrying the pole - with the grimm at the other end - as the hinges cut into his skin. The rigid line trying to straighten fully met the resistance of his arm, twisting it with a sharp crack that left his head spinning. But he’d done it. The gravity hadn’t activated. The line hadn’t retracted. That was the only reason it hadn’t cut clean through his arm. 

And he did it. He’d gotten the lancer to the peak of the curve and now it was falling, back facing down towards the floor of the ravine. 

Once it was in the descent of the arc Clover gritted his teeth, and cried as he let go of Kingfisher’s line with the last bit of movement his hand would be capable of for a while. As it fell, he ducked and snatched Harbinger back up, lifted it shakily and firing as many shots as he could, until the final lancer plummeted. 

He still had to move. 

He felt the impact of the larger grimm on the ground, and he wasn’t sure if the wave of nausea that flooded him was pain or relief as he saw it’s pincer’s loosen, and his boyfriend's body slide slowly to the ground, miraculously clear of the centinels limbs. 

He reached Qrow right as the ash started to lift from the creature. 

“Qrow!? Qrow, come on baby bird, talk to me, please!” He pleaded desperately, pain laced in every word. 

But Qrow was completely still, silent.

Clover couldn’t breathe for an awful moment as he watched his chest, begging it to rise. 

It did. Slowly, barely, painfully. 

Clover looked around, desperately looking for any further surprises. None came.

He turned back to Qrow. He wanted to move him to better cover but he froze before touching him, remembering the loud snap he’d heard. From the pained movement of his chest, he was sure he’d broken at least a couple of ribs, possibly punctured a lung.

But with Qrow unconscious he had no way of knowing if his spine was damaged. He couldn’t risk moving him. 

A rush of pain shot through Clover's arm, his head reeling dangerously. He felt his own aura shimmer around him, but it didn’t shatter. 

He looked down and saw that Qrow’s cape had managed to not get caught under him, splaying up above his head. Clover braced himself and leaned over, taking one end of the cloth in his teeth and the other in his good hand and ripping a strip off to use as a sling.

Looking around there was nothing to use as a splint though.

Well… there was Kingfisher’s pole. But, though the weapon _was_ already damaged, it was something he could fix himself. But breaking the pole would be a more complicated fix. And he no longer had the luxury of taking it back to Pietro. If he broke it now he’d be weaponless the rest of the way through the desert, if they even made it out of that ravine. 

So he fashioned a basic sling, pulling his arm tight against his chest. It wasn’t ideal but it was better than letting it hang freely. 

He looked around, the sun beating down on them harshly. 

The kids were their only chance. They would come looking for them soon and, while they were out of range to get them on his scroll, they had known the area they were scouting, and the ravine was just at the edge of it. 

He turned his attention back to Qrow, his heart in his throat as he took in the sallow tinge of his skin, the growing sweat, the twisted expression. 

He wanted to touch him. He wanted to talk to him. He wanted to beg him to wake up. But between barely being able to stay conscious himself and his fear of doing any more damage, or of Qrow waking up and hurting himself further, he stayed still. 

Clover scooted over to lean against a rock by his prone partner. 

He drifted on the edge of consciousness for a while, until he heard a sharp gasp in front of his and bolted up, curling in pain as he jerked his arm.

But Qrow’s eyes were open. Clover rushed too him, good hand up, motioning him to stay still. 

“Qrow! Oh, thank the gods! Don’t-don’t move, honey, just stay still.” He stammered, looking down, an overwhelming relief flooding his thoughts as he saw those red eyes find his. 

“C-cl-clover?” It was raspy, breathy. But Clover saw his hand, his foot twitch as he tried to move. That was a good sign at least, but he still didn’t dare move him. 

“Hey, hey, feathers. I’m right here. Shhh shh. Qrow… Qrow I need you to stay still okay? You-” Clover’s voice cracked as he raised a hand to brush the hair from Qrow’s face cautiously. 

“You’re hurt. B-bad. I need you to just stay still for me okay, baby?” He couldn’t stop the tears that started to fall. 

Qrow watched him wide-eyed, and Clover saw the pain really start to register. At the same moment that his eyes flicked to Clover’s chest, his arm, and the bloody cloth around it. 

“Y-you- AHH!” Qrow started worriedly, but everything hurt at once, and he was too scared to move at all. 

Clover turned to the pouch strapped to his thigh and searched through it, a difficult task with one hand. But finally, he found it. A bottle of Atlesian military-grade painkiller. He filled the dropper with as big a dose as he dared give Qrow without knowing the full extent of his injuries and motioned for him to open his mouth. 

Clover sighed as he saw Qrow ease slightly as the medicine took effect. He returned the bottle to the pouch, hoping Qrow wouldn’t notice.

He did. 

“You-you should.-” He stuttered, looking back down at Clover’s mangled arm. 

Clover faked a smile. “I had some before you woke up, birdy. I’m fine.” He lied.

They only had so much. And with every passing minute, he grew more worried that the kids wouldn’t find them.

Qrow was bad off. Really bad off. And with no idea when, if, they’d be rescued Clover was intent on staving off his pain as long as he could. 

Clover sat beside his boyfriend quietly. He wanted to talk, to comfort him. But just sitting upright was hard. And he was too afraid that if he laid down, neither of them would get back up. 

The sun continued to beat down on them mercilessly and Clover found it harder and harder to breathe in the heat. They hadn’t brought water. It was just a quick scouting mission. 

Qrow moaned in pain periodically, and Clover jumped when he felt a shaky finger tap against his hand. 

He looked down to see Qrow watching him, eyes soft despite the pain.

He took as deep a breath as he could manage and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I know you’re lying, Clover.” His eyes flickered to the pouch. “You… If you can take enough to get past the pain you might be able to find a way out and get back to the kids. I’m not-” 

“Stop.” Clover cut him off, voice low and gritted. “I’m not leaving you, that’s not up for debate. The kids know where we went. They will find us. And until then I’m doing everything I can to keep you…. I’m doing everything for you.” He said it with a finality that Qrow didn’t have the strength to argue against. 

Time passed and the sun blazed. 

Qrow’s voice was tiny when he spoke again. “I’m really tired, Cloves.” His words slurred slightly and Clover jolted, turning to look at him as he gripped his hand tighter.

“Hey, hey no no no. Qrow, you’re not doing that, you hear me!” 

“-ove you.” The older man mumbled, squeezing the gloved hand in his weakly, his eyes heavy. 

“Stop. Please, Q-qrow.” Clover begged, his voice failing him. 

“-anna kiss you.” The smile was excruciating and it fell as a sob tore from Clover. “ -’m sor-rry, Clover.” He whispered, tugging his hand. 

Clover shook with tears. He wanted to lean over, to kiss him softly. But he couldn’t let go of his hand. And with his other arm tied to his chest and his body so shaky he knew that if he tried to bend over without supporting himself he’d fall. So he just squeezed Qrow’s hand back, shaking his head. 

“N-no, feath-Qrow. No. I’m sorry. I…” A careful, slow, squeeze. “I love you, Qrow. I-”

“UNCLE QROW!?” A bright voice cut through the air and lit Clover’s heart on fire. Ruby. It was Ruby. 

Clover looked down at his partner, tears streaking his face as he laughed, and squeezed his hand one last time before lifting it to his face. 

“RUBY!! RUBY WE’RE IN THE RAVINE!! Q-QROW’S….. BRING JAUNE!!” He belted, as loud as he possibly could, his lungs screaming as he did, his head swimming with pain at the stress. 

“CLOVER!? R-RIGHT! RIGHT WE’RE COMING!! HOLD ON!! UNCLE QROW, HOLD ON!!” Clover ached at the panic in her voice. 

His shoulders dropped and he finally, finally, let himself slide down to lay beside his boyfriend. 

Qrow turned his head slowly to face him, an agonized grin on his lips. Clover lifted his hand to cup a scratched cheek, and leaned in, pressing the lightest kiss to his lips. It was barely a kiss at all. They were hot and sweaty and barely conscious, in complete agony. But later they would both say it was one of their most cherished embraces. 

Within moments Clover saw white sparkling glyphs leading down to them behind a streaking cloud of red petals. 

Clover insisted Jaune tend to Qrow first, and as he watched the soft golden aura spread around the man he loved, he finally sighed and left everything fade away. 

\-----------------

Clover wasn’t sure how much later it was when he awoke. But they were back in their tent, Yang and Ruby in the corner asleep. He looked down at Qrow beside him, bandaged and looking so small, so frail. His entire body ached, and he could tell by the dull pang in his arm that there was a lot of healing ahead still for both of them. 

But they were alive. They were both still alive. 

He couldn’t tell you if it was his luck. But he’d never been more grateful for it than at that moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a fight like this, with weapon mechanics. And I got started way too late for how long this ended up being. So the second half is rushed as hell and probably missing a whole bunch that I'll do in edits later. 
> 
> andchangethename..
> 
> But hey!!! Day 30!!!
> 
> This is officially the longest Anthology piece so far, and the fastest writing time in proportion to length.... like.. right at 3 hours....imsleepynow
> 
> \---------  
> There were 50 prompts originally, but I've already thought of a few more. Also had multiple ideas for a few, which is why some might be listed as chapter 1, with a future version of the prompt coming later.
> 
> Might not end up sticking strictly to the daily thing, but I'll do my best. Either way, here's an ongoing series of little moments.
> 
> Original prompt list - https://kashimalin-fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/178524845380/50-types-of-kisses-writing-prompts
> 
> Might edit here and there later, but the goal here was to just finish something, even if it's not perfectly polished.


End file.
